New Link, New Chain
by thosedarndursleys
Summary: Draco Malfoy has been a father for eleven years, but some old habits die hard.


**A/N:** Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! This was written for round 12 of the Quidditch Leaghe Fanfiction Competition. I, as keeper of the Caerphilly Catapults, was tasked with writing about a familial relationship between Draco and Scorpius Malloy. For judging purposes, the final word count of this story is 943.

New Link, New Chain

"Scorpius, please go pack your belongings for tomorrow. We have to be on the platform by 10:55 sharp." Astoria rubbed at the back of her neck as the boy bounded around the kitchen for no apparent reason. "Scorpius," she began again, pushing her chair back from its place at the table. The eleven-year-old gave no acknowledgement at his mother's words and continued to lose himself in whatever fantasy his mind had cooked up.

" _Scorpius_!" Both Astoria and the boy flinched as Draco snapped from his place at the table, striking his palm against it in the process. "Do as your mother told you. _Now_."

Scorpius stared at his father with large eyes before choking out a 'yes sir' and bolting up the stairs. Draco let out a huff and returned to the book in front of him. Astoria, however, left her eyes trained on her husband.

"Was that really necessary, Draco?" she asked after a moment. "He's only excited. Tomorrow's his first day."

"I know what tomorrow is, and it's no excuse," Draco offered without looking up from his book. "I won't put up with such disrespect, and neither will his professors. He should know that by now."

"He does know that, love, but he's eleven."

"I know how old he is also, believe it or not," Draco drawled with a roll of his eyes. "By the time I was eleven, my father—"

"—You aren't your father, Draco," Astoria cut in. "That isn't who I married, and that isn't who I've chosen to raise a child with."

Draco sat in silence for a moment before sighing and rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

"I suppose you're right," he offered. "Old habits die hard, yeah? I'm sorry."

Astoria stood and rounded the table, stopping to place a kiss to Draco's cheek. "I know, love, but I'm not the one you have to apologize to."

Draco sighed once more and rose from his place at the head of the table. The stairs were a short commute from the kitchen, and he took them slowly. Even after more than a decade as a father and even more than that as a husband, he still struggled in the apology department. The way Draco was raised, adults were never in the wrong; he didn't exactly have much precedent to go off of.

Even when he reached the threshold of Scorpius' closed door, he was still at a loss of what to say. Nonetheless, however, he raised a hand to knock softly before letting himself in.

"Scorpius," he began on the taper off seconds later upon seeing the surprise in his son's eyes. He cleared his throat and took a seat on the boy's desk chair. "Son, I apologize for what happened downstairs. I shouldn't have snapped at you." Draco paused briefly before plowing forward. What did he have to lose, really? "It—it was wrong of me."

Draco watched as his son's eyes crinkled into a smile, his lips soon following. Scorpius set the uniform shirt he had been holding into his trunk before moving to sit on his bed, across from his father. "That's alright, dad. I'm sorry for ignoring mum. I'll apologize to her when I finish packing."

It was Draco's turn to smile now, and he reached out a hand to settle it atop his son's head. "She'll appreciate that." He ruffled his hair slightly before settling back into the chair. "So," he began, "were you and your mother able to get everything that you need for this term?"

"Yeah!" Scorpius cheered, and just like that, Draco knew that he was off to the races. He listened as his son told him all about getting fitted for his robes at _Madam_ _Malkin's_ and picking up each of his textbooks by name. Scorpius talked about his new cauldron and his wand core as well as the new treats that he picked up for Salem, the owl he had gotten from his parents for his ninth birthday.

Draco listened carefully and watched as his son's face lit up the longer he went on. After a while, he began to feel a pang of guilt in his stomach. He didn't do this often enough, didn't sit down with his son and just listen. In that regard, Draco was quite like his own father. Draco could count on one hand the number of real conversations that he'd had with his father as a child. Draco silently cursed himself; when Scorpius was born, he'd promised himself that he'd be a better father than Lucius had been. He'd be a dad, in fact, not just a father.

At that thought, Draco made a mental note and then continued listening to Scorpius' recount of his trip to the ice cream shop and then his first experience using the floo on his own. Draco smiled fondly and stood from his seat once Scorpius finished his story. He tried to ignore the look of hurt on the boy's face as he turned on his heel and stride toward his office on the other side of the hall.

He picked up a couple of items from his desk drawer and headed back to Scorpius' room, finding the boy in the same place that he had left him. Draco forwent his place on the desk chair and sat on the bed next to his son.

"You seem to have forgotten something during your shopping trip," he explained at Scorpius' furrowed brow.

"What's that?" the boy asked.

Draco held out his hand, the stack of envelopes and parchment sitting atop his palm.

"Letter-writing supplies for your leisure time," Draco said simply. "I want to hear everything."


End file.
